01- Jack of Thieves

by Ben Hale

  “Don't forget I want answers as well,” she warned. “Don't kill him too quickly.”

  He merely grunted in agreement. A moment later they took the eastern road, working their way into the eastern part of the valley. The bright moon provided plenty of illumination for them until they stepped off the main throughway onto a worn mining road. Brush and trees had encroached until it had become no more than a trail. They slowed their pace in order to navigate the fallen trees. Shortly before midnight they reached the mine.

  Ancient buildings lay scattered around the abandoned opening. Most of the roofs had long since rotted away, leaving leaning walls and leaf-covered floors. Rusted tracks extended from the mine but little else remained besides machinery too heavy to salvage. A cough from the darkness beside the mine drew their eyes and Nemeth stepped into the open.

  “You cut it close,” he said. “They should be here any minute.”

  “We're already here,” a voice called.

  The three of them turned as another figure stepping from the darkness. Lithe and graceful, the dark elf appeared much as Jack had expected. Grey skin, black eyes, and flowing white hair matched the stories he'd heard. A score of other elves stepped from the darkness around them. Their swords glinted in the night, sharp and curving in their hands.

  In spite of his previous bravado, Nemeth's smile appeared nervous. “Val'Trisian, my dear friend. We have what you seek. There is no need for conflict.”

  “We wanted the amulet and the thief,” the elf said.

  “We have the amulet,” Nemeth said. “And as I have said, the thief is long dead—”

  “Actually we brought him as well,” Jack said, and motioned to Nemeth. “Val'Trisian . . . meet the thief that stole your amulet.”

  Chapter 23: Reckoning

  His words caused a stir among the dark elves and Val'Trisian's eyes narrowed. Nemeth snapped to look at Jack and struggled to keep his features controlled. Jack ignored him and strode forward with a smile.

  “This man is the very thief who stole the Eye of the Deep ten years past,” he said, coming to a halt by Nemeth's side. “And he stands ready to pay for his crimes.”

  Nemeth growled in rage but his denial died on his lips when Jack turned on him. The man recoiled from the sheer hatred emanating from Jack.

  “He's gone mad,” Nemeth stuttered.

  “Your voice betrays you, human.”

  Val'Trisian spoke quietly, but the menace to her tone caused Nemeth to recoil further. Struggling to contain his panic, Nemeth's eyes flicked between the dark elves and Jack, and finally came to rest on Beauty, who merely folded her arms. The former thief swallowed in fear and fumbled with a pouch.

  Beauty darted forward and placed the tip of her dagger against his spine. Nemeth wisely released the pouch but could not stop the trembling of his fingers. His eyes darted between them, searching for refuge or ally.

  “Why?” Val'Trisian asked, turning to Jack. “Why turn on your friend?”

  Jack spit on the earth at the suggestion of friendship. “He killed a woman named Morissa, and I came to repay the debt.”

  Again caught off guard, Nemeth began to protest. “Thieves do not kill—”

  Jack closed the gap in an instant, his dagger touching the man's throat. “Six years ago you and nine men went to the druid woods to kill a woman. Three survived, Kuraltus, Shelt, and you.”

  Confusion flitted across his features, and then sudden recognition. “She had a boy, one with a panther as a companion.”

  The tip of his dagger dug into Nemeth's throat and he imagined sliding it home. His hand trembled with the desire to kill him, to watch the blood seep from his body. But it felt too kind a fate for such a man. Nemeth deserved to suffer, and slitting his throat would end his suffering too quickly.

  “Why come after her?”Jack demanded.

  Nemeth winced as Jack's dagger pierced deeper. “She went on assignment and never came back. Kuraltus was given the same assignment but the item had vanished. It took him years to learn that Morissa had taken the item for herself.”

  “Did the Guildmaster order her death?” Jack asked.

  “He wanted her unharmed,” Nemeth said, “When we tried to take her she fought back.” He recoiled under Jack’s expression. “I swear there was nothing we could do. She was always one of the best of us.”

  Beauty stepped into view. “And the Guildmaster didn’t punish you?”

  He shook his head, making the fat of his jowls wobble. “We told him the husband went mad and killed her. If we’d told the truth we would have been gutted and tossed to the alligators.”

  Beauty leaned in. “You know who he is,” she said. “Don’t you.”

  “I can't,” he pleaded. “This truth is one that cannot be known.” He shuddered, his expression turning haunted.

  Confused, Jack withdrew his dagger. His gaze flicked to Beauty, but she shook her head. Turning back to Nemeth, he asked, “What truth could be this dangerous?”

  Nemeth shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. Jack plied him for more but he refused to speak. Then Beauty rotated around, drawing Nemeth's gaze.

  “Morissa is not the only assassination the guild has carried out. What do you know about the others?”

  “The Guildmaster ordered them,” Nemeth said in a rush. “To disobey would have just put us on his list of targets. You joined the guild later, but you cannot imagine how dark it was after he took over.” He passed a hand over his face as if it would ward off the memory. “Be glad you were not part of the guild then.”

  “What about Erela?” Beauty asked.

  “I don’t know the name.”

  She caught his throat and lifted him off the ground. “How do I know you speak the truth?”

  He gurgled an answer and she threw him to the ground. Like a whipped dog he lay in the dirt, coughing for breath. When he recovered she knelt before him.

  “You are a lecherous cur,” she said, her voice laced with disgust. “But you’re too much of a coward to hold your tongue. Now tell us what you know about the Guildmaster.”

  Nemeth looked up and his eyes blazed with hatred. Beauty asked again but he remained silent. When it became clear Nemeth would say no more, she turned to Jack and raised an eyebrow.

  Jack recognized the motion as an invitation to kill him, but Jack's hand did not rise. Pitiful and trembling with rage and fear, the bald man appeared weak and broken. Jack reluctantly sheathed his dagger and gestured to the dark elves.

  “You can have him.”

  Nemeth wilted, and still did not speak as the elves dragged him into the mine. When he was gone Jack turned to Val'Trisian.

  “My apologies,” he said.

  She smiled sympathetically. “We all have our quests. Speaking of which . . .”

  Caught up in the conversation with Nemeth, Jack had forgotten all about the reason for meeting the dark elves. He pulled the necklace from a pouch and tossed it to her. She caught it deftly and held it up to the moonlight, a smile on her face.

  “The Eye of the Deep,” she breathed. “It's beautiful.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “It's just a black stone.”

  “Not to eyes that see in the dark.” She folded it with care and placed it in a pouch at her side.

  “What do you need it for, anyway?” Beauty asked.

  “Each of the Reigns in our homeland carries such an amulet as a symbol of our status. Without it we cannot sit on the council. After your companion stole it we searched within our own people, suspecting it had been taken there. It was not until recently that we considered the possibility that one of your people had been the perpetrator.”

  “You didn't think we could steal from you,” Jack said shrewdly.

  “We do not think much of your kind,” she admitted with a smile. “But perhaps you have changed my perception. You are certainly more clever than we give you credit for, especially considering your escape from Nightfall Gorge.”

  Beauty grunted in surprise. “Were you watching
?”

  Val'Trisian shook her head. “We have ways of knowing what happens on the surface. The nature of your kind requires caution.”

  “I could say the same about you,” Jack said.

  She laughed, a high honest sound. “You speak the truth, thief.” She hesitated, and then added. “Be cautious in your quest. Your companion's words do not bode well for you.”

  He caught the tone in her voice and frowned. “Do you know the truth he spoke of?”

  “Perhaps,” she admitted. “Or perhaps not. Tales of your Guildmaster have reached our ears and they are disturbing. If I learn anything before his execution,” she gestured to where Nemeth had been dragged into the mine, “I’ll send you word.”

  “Or perhaps I could visit you,” Jack said, earning another laugh.

  “Goodbye, Jack of thieves. I hope we meet again.” She gestured to the male elf at her side, and he tossed a bag of coins to Jack.

  Jack inclined his head to Val'Trisian. “Until then, farewell my Lady.”

  Her smile was genuine, making her look less hostile than the severe elf she'd been at the start of their encounter. He watched her disappear into the mine with the rest of her people. Once they were gone, Beauty released a breath.

  “That went better than I could have expected.”

  “What did you expect?” Jack asked and strode toward the roadway.

  “They are dark elves.”

  Jack snorted derisively. “They are like any race. The only difference is where they make their bed.”

  They reached the road and turned west, winding their way through the peaceful night toward Nightfall Gorge. Their conversation lapsed and Jack fell to pondering Nemeth's words. After a while Beauty broke the silence.

  “So Morissa was your mother.”She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “Was she a druid like you?”

  “She wasn't,” he said with a sigh, regretting how much he’d revealed. “But my father was joined to a lion.”

  “I understand that’s a symbol of strength and honor.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Not for him. He'd fallen into a bottle long before I summoned my own Joré.”

  “The panther?”

  “You really won't be satisfied until you know all of it, will you?”

  She grinned at him, her soft features illuminated by the moonlight. “No.”

  He relented with an explosive sigh. “When I was fifteen I performed the summoning ceremony and a panther came. Two years later Shadero died the night my mother did, giving his life to save me.”

  “Nemeth made it clear she was part of the guild.”

  “I knew nothing of her past,” he said, “and it seems she ended that life before I was born.”

  “Perhaps she just wanted to escape the Guildmaster.”

  The sourness to her tone made him laugh. “Do you wish to escape?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Not until I punish whoever ordered Erela’s death. Assuming I survive beyond that?” She shrugged. “I certainly don’t want to be a thief for the rest of my life.”

  “And if it’s the Guildmaster?”

  “Then I will kill him.”

  “Are you certain you can?”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “And he certainly likes his privacy. You think the secret Nemeth was referring to is as dangerous as he implied?”

  Jack mulled on that thought. The man was an enigma, and he was dangerous enough. But what truth could he be so desperate to protect? Then an idea caused him to reach up and touch his forehead.

  “Did the dajuna come from the assassins? Or the Guildmaster?”

  She grinned at the question. “How much do you remember?”

  “Most of it,” he admitted. “The panther side of my mind didn't react well to the memory curse, and Ursana had dealt with such magic in the past. We managed to piece together what had happened in the assassin’s guildhall.”

  “The dajuna was the Guildmaster's,” she said, and then realized what he was insinuating. “You think he used it on Nemeth and Kuraltus?”

  “It makes sense,” Jack said. “Nemeth did say he didn't know the whole truth. What if the Guildmaster took the truth from him?”

  “But why leave him alive?” she asked. “The Guildmaster likes to kill as much as the assassins do—even more so. It's almost as if he considers our lives to be worthless.” She shuddered and looked away. “But I hate him, so I may just want him to be the cause of all this.”

  “And if he isn’t?”

  “Then I don’t know.”

  For a while there was only the sound of their feet on the gravel road. Then her shoulders relaxed and she sighed.

  “I miss her.”

  “What was your sister like?”

  She smiled, and the moonlight illuminated the expression. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known,” she said. “Our father agreed to marry both of us to a rival tribe in order to fulfill a treaty. I wanted to leave but lacked the courage. Erela outright refused our father. Even when my father beat her for disobedience she stood defiant. She fled that night . . . and I didn't, not until I heard of her death.”

  “I'm sorry,” Jack said. “She deserved better.”

  “She deserved a better sister.”

  Raw and harsh, the bitterness in her tone made him grunt. “You're here, aren't you? Risking your life to punish the ones who killed her?”

  She jerked her head but didn't argue, and for a while they were quiet. When Jack could no longer stand the silence, he began to laugh.

  “Is there a betrothed I need to worry about?” he asked. “With what's going on between us I don't want a barbarian to show up and break my legs.”

  “Nothing is going on between us, Jack.” Her tone was exasperated, but a smile tugged at her lips.

  “You didn't answer my question.”

  “I know,” she said, and then smiled at him. “But enough secrets for one night.”

  He grinned at her choice in words. “Then what now?”

  The shift in conversation had rebuilt the walls they had both let tumble. He sensed that roots had grown beneath the barriers, but the walls remained as thick as the day regret had built them.

  “They will want to know what happened to Nemeth,” she said.

  He shrugged. “The dark elves figured out he was the original thief. It's mostly true.”

  “Agreed,” she said. “And then I will try to get us an assignment in the elven guildhall.”

  “What if the Guildmaster won't let me go?” he asked. “Do not forget I'm still an untested thief.”

  She began to laugh. “You kissed a lord's daughter in front of him, broke his home, stole his valuables, and escaped while laughing in his face. I think the Guildmaster would let you take any assignment at this point.”

  He grinned at her words. “Then let's find Kuraltus and learn what he knows.”

  His humor faded when he heard a distant shout. They exchanged a look and hurried up the road. Topping a rise, they came to a halt as Nightfall Gorge came into view, as did the small army of soldiers in Shadow's Bank. Shouts rang out from the houses and torches bobbed in the street.

  “It looks like they gave up on finding us in the city,” Jack said, relishing the scene of chaos he’d caused. She merely glared at him.

  Chapter 24: Enlisted

  “This is your fault,” she said.

  “How is this my fault?” he argued. “We both stole the amulet.”

  “I didn't kiss a lord's daughter—in front of him—and his betrothed.”

  “It worked, didn't it?”

  She released an exasperated laugh. “I may be loath to admit it, but it did. Don't do it again.”

  “As you order.”

  She gestured to the town. “They aren't going to stop searching for you, and they've certainly closed the borders of the province by now. We're going to have to take mountain trails to escape.”

  “Without supplies or horses?” He snorted. “They will overtake us with ease. Besides, Ursana and Gordo
n are still inside the city.”

  “There must be two hundred soldiers down there,” she said. “How do you suppose we get horses and supplies?”

  A sly smile crossed his face. “We help ourselves to them.”

  “You want to rob the soldiers?”

  “Why not?” Jack asked, and started down the slope.

  “You're going to get us caught,” she hissed.

  “Not if we look like them.”

  She came up short. “You want to impersonate a soldier?” Then a grin spread on her features. “I like it.”

  “Split up,” Jack said. “And make sure to tie up whoever you steal from.”

  They parted for opposite sides of the village. Jack crept toward the back of a stables and slipped through a window. Then he advanced to where a pair of soldiers stood talking.

  “I've never seen Lord Horanian so angry,” one said.

  “I know,” the second replied, and stifled a laugh. “And his daughter? I can't believe she's going to end her engagement.”

  “That must have been some kiss,” the other replied.

  “It was,” Jack said.

  They instinctively turned and he struck one in the jaw, sending him crashing to the dirt. The second reached for his weapon. Jack lunged for him and they both went down. The soldier grunted and rolled, struggling to regain his feet, but Jack managed to extricate himself and rise first.

  “Sorry, my friend,” Jack said, and punched him in the face.

  He dragged both into an empty stall before binding their limbs and gagging them. Just as he began removing a uniform a voice of authority called from the doorway. Jack peaked up and saw a captain striding into the stables, demanding a report. Jack grinned and leapt into a balcony above. Then he waited for the bodies to be discovered and pounced. He grinned as he removed the officer's uniform and placed it on himself.

  “Thanks for the promotion,” he said.

  Slipping into the jacket, he buttoned it and donned the hat before striding out of the stables. Two men met him at the door, both confused at his appearance. Before they could get a look at his face he strode past them, bombarding them with questions.